


Jazzy-Blues

by abbesstansie



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:38:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7113700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbesstansie/pseuds/abbesstansie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quiet set up in an old entertainment hall. Take a seat and have a lovely time, deary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ad Lib Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An evening of light entertainment in a smokey night club, pull up a chair and enjoy.

_“-Really sad_

_You're gonna die_

_Cry cry cry_

_So sad it's happening.”_

 

The last refrains of a bitter sweet jazz tune reverberated around the crowded night club. The soft rolling hiss of the top hat ended the song in a gentle kiss that left the audience spell bound.

One moment passed, then another, finally the audience erupted with enthusiastic applause and tears.

There were whistles from the more excitable patrons and of course calls for an encore. Always the crowd wanted more and why shouldn’t they? The tall robot was a shooting star on the rise toward fame. Nothing could put a damper on their blazing brilliance.

But that was the end of the set; the thick red velvet curtain fell trapping a tall Snowdrake in a bowler hat on the outside to announce the next entertainer. It ruffled its icy feathers and reeled the emotional crowd in with practiced ease; telling jokes in preparation for the next act.

Behind the curtain the tall, the leggsy robot in the form fitted blue gown sauntered toward stage left. The band that had accompanied them were quickly packing up their instruments and lugging them off the stage as fast as they could. A stage hand ran out to help. Mettaton was in direct contrast to the ruffians surrounding them gliding unhurriedly toward their dressing room. They always strutted as if they were in the spot light because, quite frankly, they _were_ the spot light.

“ ‘Ey Mettaton, nice performance. But next time, you’ve gotta throw me a bone or two. You’re a tough act to follow. These last minute schedule changes are wearing me down to skin and well-”

Mettaton paused to glance down at the stocky skeleton in the grey pinstripe suit. “Oh, _Sansy_ , darling! I really will make this up to you. You have no idea how difficult my schedule has been! What with these night shoots for the upcoming motion picture, Gone with the Surge Protector. Thanks for taking the final act from me.”

The two pin points of light in the skeleton’s eyes beamed up at the robot, “Eh, Forget about it. A rotten tomato or two thrown my way only means I got ketchup for later, right?”

Mettaton’s voice box hissed with a startled rush of static, “Darling, they’re not seriously-“

The skeleton shrugged, “It keeps me on my toes and when the tomatoes start flying I know how to _ketchup_ real quick.”

They both were startled by the percussionist as he rolled out a _ba dum tiss_ on his drum set.

Sans threw the short rabbit with clouded glasses a quick thumbs up. The rabbit smirked and then continued to push the wheeled platform, holding his drums, off the stage.

Mettaton chuckled, “You really are a doll! I’ll make this up to you I promise! As soon as I finish this motion picture we’ll do lunch or dinner.” The robot leaned down and planted a kiss on the skeleton’s cheek.

Could skeleton’s blush?

This one certainly was making a grand attempt at blushing. He quickly pulled his fedora down to hide the permanent grin etched on his face. He then stooped to pick up the large instrument case at his side.

Mettaton loved to make people squirm. If they had one vice, if you could call it a vice, it was to leave everyone with a sense of budding sexual tension.

As the sound of Mettaton’s steel heels faded into the distance Sans pushed his fedora back up onto his head, then adjusted it to a slightly jaunty angle. He loosed the tie around his neck and took moment to pause. If he had lungs he would have taken a deep breath. As it stood now two whoopee cushions replaced those vital organs.

Heh, the old whoopee cushion trick, got ‘em every time.

He walked out to stand by the microphone, awaiting the opening of the curtains. The sound of the audience out front rippled toward him like water. His grin grew wider, he was a performer and the whole world was his stage. He placed his battered trombone case down at his side and knelt to take his instrument out.

The metal was old and tarnished with the amount of use it got. Usually chasing his brother around plaguing his life with incidental music, heh good times.

He stood, adjusting the slide. He gave an experimental blow through the mouth receiver and was greeted with the familiar sound of his instrument, reassuring him it was ready for a good time. He once again paused, a bright line of light from a break in the curtains cut across half his face. It was warm, like a playful summer’s day, a far cry from the dismal early spring weather they were having outside.

Another pause, this time to gather his thoughts.

Then the curtains slowly opened, the stage lights blazing forth caused him to squint for a moment. Once his eyes adjusted he saw the hazy smoke filled room crowded with monsters and humans. They were clustered together around tables and standing along the wall or by the bar. All eyes were on him, just as it should be. “Who’s ready for a rib tickling good time?”

Sans glanced just off stage right to see an older monster, her dark purple hair tied up in a bun, and her chartreuse plump face smiling at him. She was ready to tickle the ivories of the stage piano. He appreciated the humor.

His metacarpals closed around the trombone, ready to be played. He tapped out a rhythm with his two toned oxfords. A one, and a two, and a-

The old biddy began to play out the introduction to “When you’re smilin’.”

He joined in on his trombone playing a few upbeat measures to rile up the crowd. If he had lungs they’d have given him notice by the end of the song for the extreme conditions he’d be putting them under. He played a little trombone then began to sing.

His voice was rough and low, like a car driving over gravel, but that’s what made him so good. No one in the entire world would ever be able to copy the performance he could give. This song was always a favorite of his and he never sang it the same way twice.

_“When you're smilin', when you're smilin'_

_The whole world smiles with you”_

He took a moment before the next portion of the verse to throw in random syllables. Scat singing; as the youngins were calling it these days. It just sounded right to him improvising the song. Life wasn’t a stagnant thing. Life moved and changed. Caressing like the sweetest lover one moment then raging like a demon the next. Sometimes it did both at once causing the most gratifying torment of the soul.

Alternating between singing and playing Sans continued the song. Drawing the crowd’s attention in on him, taking them all by the hand and befriending them. His trombone’s tone was clear and warm the perfect accompaniment to the deep timbre of his voice. A pair of auditory dancers constantly tangoing in and around one another to dazzle the ears of their new friends.

_“But when you're cryin', you bring on the rain_

_So stop your sighin', be happy again_

_Keep on smilin', 'cause when you're smilin'_

_The whole world smiles with you”_

 

He finished the song by allowing his trombone to play the final stanza, it gave a playful rumbling warble at the end that caused the crowd to laugh. He winked his eye socket down at the trombone, holding it at rest in his right hand.

His left hand reached out and cupped the microphone gently, to avoid the clattering sound his bones produced on the case. “How’s everyone doing tonight? Good?”

His smile grew when the crowd shouted their mixed affirmatives and eh’s. You couldn’t win everyone over right at the beginning, especially following a Mettaton performance. It really weighed heavily on the crowds mood to have the final act of the evening be levity instead of the gorgeous rectangular robot.

Sans disagreed with them, he would rather have the whole room of monsters and humans rolling out the door and down the streets laughing. The economy wasn’t what it once had been. There was overcrowding and too little to go around.

Some of the persons here were factory workers trying to get by. Penting up all their week’s frustrations until they could dissipate them during a night of enjoyable entertainment. Others were store owners trying to make ends meet so they could pay the rent on their building at the end of the month.

Levity was in short supply and laughter was the cheapest medicine he could provide. Well, the Doctor was in.

“’Ey who here likes to go to the doctor?”

The crowd responded with boos and rough words.

“Yeah me neither, they’re always telling me, ‘Sans you’re too fat or Sans you need to lay off the hotdogs and ketchup!’ When’s a doctor ever going to say, ‘Sans, you’re practically perfect in every way! Don’t change!’? I guess that’s why I bought myself a mirror, certainly saves me a bundle at the end of the year.”

The laughter roiled. Monsters and humans slapped one another and raised drinks to Sans.

“Doctor’s have it rough, though. Last year I broke my arm so I go to my doctor and I say, ‘Doc! I broke my arm in two places.’ You know what he says to me?”

He paused to let the audience catch up. “He takes a look at me and says, “Don’t go back to those two places. Eh, but seriously Doctors are for helping us to age well. I don’t know about you but as I get older I often think to myself how I don’t feel older. I don't feel old - I don't feel anything until noon. Then it's time for my nap."

 

The crowd was in stitches, some soon to be literally as one man fell from his chair laughing. He was helped up by his buddies, who were also laughing. Not a single tomato was in sight.

Sans took it to be a good sign and paused from his stand-up comedy act to play another song on his trombone. This time he let the trombone do all of the singing, its brazen voice causing just as much merriment to the audience as he had. Comedy duo, Sans and Trombone. He really should give it a name, but eh…

“My father, now there’s a funny guy for you. Fathers are always full of sayings, Dadisms if you will. _‘Boys, a gold saved is a gold earned.’_ Those sort of Dadisms the kind you’d have to think so hard trying to understand what he was saying your eyes would cross and you’d stop doin’ whatever you were about to do that involved gold. Now he’d used to tell me and my brother _‘Boys, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’’_ Sans nodded sagely for a moment then shook his head, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, yes he used to tell us that, until the accident. We should give the post-man a raise making him deliver our Father’s day cards addressed to ‘Somewhere in the Multiverse’.”

One of the humans in the crowd spit out his drink; from the way he was dressed he must’ve been a postal worker who’d been working late and hadn’t had time to change before the show. A monster beside him began to pat him on the back as the human alternated between choking and laughing.

Yeah, he was surely knocking them dead this evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave feed back, dearies. There's no editor to this besides myself so any comments are welcome! More to come.


	2. The meal before the storm.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trolley ride to spaghetti town.

Sans pulled his overcoat’s collar up against the evening’s chill. It wasn’t exactly raining outside; more like a pitiful drizzle. It was probably raining somewhere else in the city.

  
If he hurried he could catch the late trolley. Catch being a lose sense of the term. Hitch a ride on the runner board was more accurate. He was usually too lazy to scrounge around in his pockets for the loose change needed for the fair.

  
As he approached the stop he felt relieved to see a crowd. Usually he had to pretend to be waiting for another car, then duck down and hop on the back. Now however he blended in with the crowd, just another monster with a large instrument case, then when they loaded onto the trolley he ducked down and hopped onto the back.  
He wasn’t alone back there.

  
A small yellow monster in a tattered stripped mustard colored sweater was already sitting curled up on the back bumper. He scooted over to give the skeleton more room, curling his thick tail over his lap. “Yo evening, Mr. Sans. You’re…uh…not going to tell my folks about this, are you?”

  
“Nah kid. You warm enough?”

  
The kid was a regular rider of the night trolley, sneaking out to watch his heroine, Undyne, trounce bad guys. He was a reptilian monster with sunny yellow spikes running down his back, thick legs, and a scaly lizard like snout. The kid had no arm appendages, which led to him falling on his face a lot. But he made do with his nimble legs and sturdy tail to haul himself up again. Nothing seemed to deter monster kid, except the thought of his parents finding out of his nightly jaunts.

  
Monster kid beamed a toothy smile. “You bet, I’m all set to see Undyne thrash some bad guys down by the docks!” Despite his enthusiasm he shivered a little. The sweater already looked soaked through. “She’s the coolest!”

  
“Yeah, Ol’ fish face sure is something.” Sans took his hat off and placed it on Monster Kid’s head. “It’s going to be a long night, kiddo. Did you wanna stop by my place for a quick bite? I think Papyrus might also have an extra scarf or coat lying around.”

  
The young monster nodded his head so zealously that he nearly fell off the trolley.

  
Sans used a hand to steady him. “Easy kid, if you continue like that I can promise you’ll not have a good time.”

  
Monster Kid smiled sheepishly. A silence fell between them as both monsters settled back against the back of the trolley watching the road disappear behind them. Street lights flashed by illuminating store fronts and bits of empty side walk. Everyone that could be indoors would be on a night like tonight.

  
The drizzle picked up until it formed actual rain. Both Sans and Monster kid were soaked through. To take their mind off the downpour Monster kid talked about his favorite person and Sans interjected with jokes.

  
Sans had nothing against Undyne, she was a fierce fighter, devoted friend, and all around a swell gill. But she was reckless and inspired others to be so too. That and her cooking skills were atrocious. He was convinced she was teaching his brother to cook only so they could poison half the city. His eyes crossed at the thought of what sort of meal his brother had prepared while he’d been gone.

  
Their stop came soon enough and the both of the hopped off the back of the trolley, scurrying to get out of the road and view of the trolley man. The trolley man- or woman – was a nice enough fellow but they were losing money and stowaways only bled profits more. There was a time they’d let you off with a song, but times were changing.

  
Sans wished he’d brought soap because it was a regular shower now; steadily falling icy cold and relentless. The trombone case was being used as an impromptu umbrella to fend off a little of the rain. Sans led them to the side door of an abandoned looking warehouse. This wasn’t strictly a housing district but the building was remote and had been cheap. Once Sans and Papyrus had gotten rid of the infestation of annoying pigeons they had made the place a cheery home.

  
Monster kid’s teeth were chattering like castanets. He danced from foot to foot impatiently as Sans fumbled with the key to the dead bolt lock. “Do you think I could have some of that spaghetti your brother makes? I always hear Undyne talking about it with Papyrus!”

  
The light in Sans eyes extinguished for a moment. “Uh- we might have some.” Who was he kidding they had a whole refrigerator filled with left over spaghetti! But Sans didn’t want to be known as a poisoner.

  
The dead bolt clicked and they both hurried inside. The main level of the building had once been a factory now it was simply used for a large storage area. There were a few machines Sans had been working on but they were covered in sheets and accruing dust.

  
Walking along the wall to the right Sans reached a metal staircase that lead up into the loft he and his brother called home.

  
Behind him Monster kid had tripped face planting hard into the concrete flooring. “I’m alright!” He shouted using his tail to push himself up off the floor.

  
Sans’ chest heaved in a sigh. “Come on kiddo, let’s get you dried off and fed.”

  
~~~*~~~

Monster kid sat bundled under a blanket on the large lumpy green couch, his sweater was draped across the back. The couch squeaked and jangled with the sound of old springs and lose change as Monster kid began to bounce. He was engrossed in the radio program Sans had put on. The radio was a huge colossal machine that sat across from the couch.

  
The program was a detective drama and a real hum dinger of one too. A dogged detective caught in a game of cat and mouse with some perp. With lots of exciting chases and dark shadowy threads connecting the program into the overarching serial. Or something along those lines

  
Sans had disappeared into the kitchen. First he’d put two plates of the freshest batch of Papyrus’s spaghetti in the oven to warm up. Then he climbed the counter to reach the ridiculously tall faucet and began to fill the kettle. He was still thoroughly soaked but he’d wanted to take care of Monster kid first. While he was on the counter he reached up into the cupboard and brought down two mugs, then he climbed down and put the kettle on the normal sized stove.

  
He hadn’t gotten around to asking Paps why he’d made the sink so outrageously tall. But he trusted his brother’s judgement, even if it didn’t always make sense. His brother was an interesting skeleton, kind to a fault and full of charisma.

  
Sans looked at the clock on the wall, a black tuxedoed cat with swinging tail and twitching eyes. Time he found was relatively meaningless, but he knew his brother would soon be up to get ready for the night shift. He would be going along too which meant he needed a change of clothes.

  
Walking out into the living room he noticed Monster kid engrossed by the radio. He was staring at it eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Huh- must be a good program. He continued to walk past Monster kid till he came to another set of stairs that led to the upper level of the loft where his bedroom was.

  
Gunfire erupted from the radio, rattling ratta tatta sounds. “You’ll have to dust me first, coppers!” More gunshots and screams.

  
The sound had caused Sans to pause and turn, his left eye blazing a brilliant cerulean for a moment. Yeah, it must’ve been a good program. He continued on up the stairs, passing his brother’s room.

  
For being one of the friendliest monsters in the whole city Papyrus sure loved his privacy. He had so many signs plastered or painted across the door.

  
“No girls allowed!”

  
“No boy allowed!”

  
“Papyrus allowed!”

  
Sans entered his room further down the hall, and turned on the light. It was sparsely furnished. A small dresser against the far wall with a lamp on top it. The dresser wasn’t even a real dresser just a cardboard box Sans had drawn drawers on. He had only needed something to hold his lamp. And his bed, well, mattress lay neatly made in a corner.

  
Neatly- huh Papyrus must’ve gotten up during the day to do house work. Now that he noticed the bed he realized his socks were also missing from the floor’s décor.

  
Sans took his wet clothes off and hung them on the back of his bed room door to drip dry. He’d see about having Papyrus clean them later. It gave him a small bit of satisfaction tossing the sopping wet socks and whoopee cushions haphazardly onto the carpet. They really tied the room together.

  
He then pulled on a white button up shirt and a pair of thread bare black slacks. He pulled his suspenders up over his collar bone allowing them to snap snuggly into place. He then put on his house slippers and grabbed a light blue sweater for Monster kid. It would be too big but it was better than nothing.

  
Monster kid was still enthralled by the broadcasting drama. In hindsight, since it was so late, the program may have been too adult for Monster kid. On the other hand Monster kid was sneaking out to go watch Undyne take down criminals. How this kid knew where the police were going to be was beyond him.

  
“Here ya’ go kiddo.” Sans dropped the sweater over Monster kid’s head. He left the kid to sort out the finer details of wiggling into it as he walked past to go tend to the whistling kettle in the kitchen.

  
Sans was just adding a bit of cream to the cups of hot cocoa when he heard a thump behind him. He turned his head to see Monster Kid trying to stand up from his face plant.

  
“Yo, it’s a little big. But, like, thank you.” Monster Kid’s legs were trying to find purchase on the tiled floor but were only shoving him forward, the sweater wasn’t helping matters either. The kid looked like a strange blue and yellow caterpillar inching toward him.

  
Sans couldn’t help but laugh, “Don’t mention it kiddo.” He picked Monster Kid up and tied the loose sleeves around the kid’s torso. He now looked like a small inmate at an asylum. “Go sit at the table, supper’s ready.”

  
Monster kid nearly face planted again in his rush to get to the table. He used his tail to knock the chair back and hopped up onto the chair. “Spaghetti!!!” He enthused as Sans placed the plate and mug before him.

  
“Nyh heh heh! Did someone say spaghetti?”

  
“Oh, hey bro. Good morning.” Sans set his own plate down and took a tentative sip at the mug of cocoa. He hissed as it burned his jaw, still too hot to drink.

  
“Sans! Why are there two of you?” Papyrus squinted across the room at them.

  
“I’m trying to be more efficient.”

  
Papyrus’s face betrayed sleepy confusion. Experience probably told him he was being led into a punny trap but he was too tired to figure it out. “What are you talking about?”

  
“Two of me just means twice as many legally required breaks. You could say with two of us we’d be more into-resting.”

  
“AUGH! Sans! It’s too early for this!” Papyrus retreated up the stairs. They heard the bathroom door slam followed shortly by the shower starting up.

  
“I like him!” Monster kid declared after he had finished slurping down a noodle.

  
“Yeah.” Sans grinned to himself sitting and taking another sip from his cocoa. “When he comes back I’ll get you a better coat for this evening.”

  
They ate their meal mainly in silence. Both had been hungry and the food was relatively decent. The sauce had an unidentifiable meat in it. Besides that there was nothing too distinguishable, the sauce was a mashed tomato-ish paste with some scorched bits. The noodles were fine, it took a lot of will power to ruin boiling noodles, and the hot chocolate was amazing.

  
The sounds of the shower cut off as they were finishing up their meal. A few moments later Papyrus was coming downstairs dressed similarly to Sans. He wore a white button up shirt tucked neatly into a pair of dark trousers held up by suspenders, and leather oxfords. Draped over an arm was a red tie and a black suit jacket. Perched on his head like a turban was a white fluffy bath towel, “Sans, before you invite people over to breakfast you must warn me. The house is a complete mess!”

  
Sans looked around at the complete lack of mess and shrugged, “Hey Paps, you have an old coat we can lend the kid here? It’s raining out and he was soaked down to the bone.”

  
Papyrus’s hands clawed at the air, “Augh! Still too early!”

  
Without another word, however, he turned and went back upstairs. He returned a few moments later with an old leather jacket, he was working on rolling up the sleeves when he finally stopped to look at Monster kid.

  
Spaghetti sauce dribbled down Monster Kid's face as he gazed up expectantly at Papyrus. “Yo- is that for, like, me?”

  
Sans could see the emotion welling up in his brother as he stared down at the kid with no arms. His brother was a real softy sometimes.

  
“Y-yes this is for you.” Papyrus knelt down to wrap the jacket around Monster kid and zipped it up for him, tying the sleeves as Sans had done with the sweater. “It was mine when I was younger.”

  
“Wicked!” Monster Kid looked down at himself. “I am going to be the most popular kid in school.”

  
“Nyeh heh heh! But of course! You will wearing the cast offs of the Great Papyrus!” He placed a hand on Monster Kid’s head and rubbed affectionately along his head spines, “If you work hard and believe in yourself you’ll go far.”

  
Sans stood, “Yeah, well we’d best send the kid on his way so he’s not late for school.” Sans exchanged a conspiratory wink with Monster Kid. “Wouldn’t want to be late to see your teacher school some kids right, kid?”

  
Monster kid nodded; he was all enthusiasm again. He tripped over his feet and fell face first into Papyrus’s shoulder.

  
“Nyeh heh heh! That’s the spirit!” Papyrus hoisted Monster kid up on his shoulders, “To school!”

  
“To the docks!!” Monster kid shouted from his new perch.

  
“Huh?” Papyrus cocked his head to one side, trying to look up at Monster kid.

  
“Uh- like, to school…?” Monster kid gulped.

  
“Right, to school!”

  
Sans and Papyrus waved farewell to the scamp as he ran down the street toward the docks. Their house was a few blocks away from the river and if Monster kid continued to follow the river he’d come to them soon enough.

  
Once Monster kid was gone from sight Papyrus closed the door. “Come now brother! Let’s get ready for work! The day awaits!”

  
Sans nodded and sighed, the “day” certainly did await. The long, dark, cold, and wet “day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait to share more with you, dearies. Indulge my slow introduction to what I hope will be a great story.


	3. Flesh and Bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A not so normal evening on patrol near the ruins.   
> This life is more than flesh and bone.

The rain drops pelted down against the umbrella with rhythmic precision. The night was creating music. The gentle soprano of the wind hummed down back allies and along building fronts, driving the percussion of the rain. The two skeleton’s steady foot falls on the wet pavement set the tempo for their current song. A bluesy number that was more than flesh and bone in the dark misty evening.

 Having a tall brother had its highs and lows. The current high was that Papyrus was holding the umbrella, shielding the both of them, as they made their way to the New Home Police Department. The current low was that for each step Papyrus took Sans had to take two or three.

Papyrus had been quiet ever since they’d left their home and had seemed keener than ever to get into work. The eagerness was nothing new, he loved his job and worked hard hoping for a promotion. But the hyper focused expression the tall angular skeleton now bore was bordering on manic.

“Hey Paps you know we don’t work at the firehouse right?”

The question seemed to startle his brother out of his revere, “What- ? Of course we don’t work at the firehouse. What are you on about? ” His footsteps slowed to a more normal pace.

“Well then, where’s the fire?”

Papyrus halted, his expression shifting from manic focus to confused frustration. “Augh, why must you _plague_ my life with puns?! I’m _sick_ of it!”

“Heh- good one.” San’s grin widened. “But seriously, anything special going on at the station today?”

They began to walk again, at a much more subdued pace. “Don’t laugh, but I have a feeling that something . . . bad is going to happen today.”

The pin point lights in Sans’ eyes locked onto his brother, “A feelin’ huh? You normally have only good feelings about things.”

“I know and I hate it. It’s been gnawing away at me ever since I woke up. It’s like the memory of a voice in my head or a feeling in my . . .” Papyrus’s free hand clenched and unclenched.

“I gotcha, bro.” Sans said saving his brother from another pun. His brother was intuitive in a way that differed from regular people or monsters. He was more empathetic in his decisions and always had an unrelenting air of optimism around him. If something rattled his brother enough that he felt something bad was happening Sans would bet his life on it.

He picked up his pace a little, “Whelp- we’d best get the station’s two best officers in to work.” He punched his brother lightly on the arm.

“Yes! I the GREAT Papyrus and my esteemed brother shall stop any evil doers!”

Rounding a corner they reached the station. The portico that stretched out over the stairs gave them respite from the rain. Papyrus half closed the umbrella and began to shake it out as they climbed the stairs.

There was decorative pediment above the portico that depicted a scene of monsters and humans working side by side in comradery. The picture was often seen around the city or in children’s history books, it was the moment the city was founded.

It was said a long time ago humans were distrustful of monsters, because monsters could use magic. They were afraid that the monsters would use their magic to harm the humans. But humans had nothing to fear, they were stronger and more durable than monsters. The monsters were afraid of humans because humans outnumbered them two to one and could easily kill them, reducing their bodies to dust.

However despite the fear and mistrust on either side a monster and a human had come together. Laying aside their reservations, their differences, and fears to simply talk. As they talked they learned that each thought the other side was the hero of their story and the other side the villain. Many such talks took place. It was hard for both sides to look past their own world views.

The center figures in the stone scene depicted a monster who bore a strong resemblance to the current mayor, Mr. Dreemur, shaking hands with a human. They’d finally found each species had more in common with one another than they’d originally thought and found a way to live together harmoniously. Thus the city New Home was founded.

The gas globe lamps either side of the double doors of the station were casting a measly glow against the dreary night. A misty vapor was rising off them as the condensation in the air was being warmed by the flame in the lamps. They looked like bizarre golden willow-o-wisps with the initials of the police department stenciled neatly on them. Sans pulled on the brass handle of one of doors, holding it open for his brother to pass through.

Papyrus strode into the station, leaving the umbrella with others in a crowded stand by the door. “Nyeh heh heh! I, the Great Papyrus, have arrived!”

The station was pretty dead at this time of night. The human officer at the front desk slowly looked up and blinked his eyes sleepily, “Eh?” He mumbled.

Papyrus’s eyes narrowed at the officer, “Officer Johnson, I have noticed on more than one occasion you seem as lethargic as my brother Sans. I would be remiss if I did not warn you not to be caught napping at your post. If Undyne were to see you. . .” The charismatic skeleton shook his head as he walked by the front desk.

The officer shook his head to wake himself up, “Uh- thank you, sir. Guess I didn’t get enough sleep.”

Papyrus strode toward the locker rooms to change into his police uniform. He would have worn the uniform constantly if he’d been allowed. But they were to be left at the station. One of the cleaning staff a woshua would take and launder their uniforms, placing them neatly back into the lockers

 “Pst- Sans.”

Sans paused at the desk, waving a hand to his brother to keep going. He didn’t have to, Papyrus was already gone, his longer legs making him faster. “Yeah Johnson? Something up?”

“I made reservations for next week to come see your show. I heard from Doggo that it’s a good one.”

Sans’ grin widened, “That crazy mutt. I had to keep moving so he could even see the show. He really kept me on my toes.”

“Oh by the by, does Papyrus know?”

The light in Sans eyes dimmed? “Know?” He asked cautiously.

“That you bone-heads are working the boneyard shift? I don’t think he’ll ever notice it’s the end of my day when you boys come in and that’s why I’m nodding off.”

The lights in Sans’ eyes flared up again. He chuckled good naturedly, “Oh, yeah. Paps is always on a different schedule from the rest of us.”

The officer smiled, “He certainly is and a good thing too. He’s right, I’d lose my job if Undyne saw me snoozing. Good thing you’re always early for your shift.”

“Paps is very punctual. Take care of yourself kid. See ya at the show.”

The officer waved and began to straighten up his work station for when his relief came in.

Sans made his way back to the locker rooms to find Papyrus chatting with one of the janitorial staff. The very same woshua that would launder their clothes, it had been placing newly pressed uniforms back into the lockers.

“You would die from shock at how messy Sans keeps his room! I don’t know how he manages! It looks like a cyclone is always going through his room. Socks everywhere!”

The woshua burbled a reply shaking its round head, “Wash u feet!”

“PRECISELY!” Papyrus shouted in agreement. He was starting to button up the coat to his uniform. It was navy blue with red trim and shiny brass buttons. He looked sharp.

Sans went to his locker and opened it, pulling out a ketchup bottle. “Huh, that’s where that bottle went.” He popped the lid off and took a quick nip.

Papyrus and the woshua shuddered.

Woshua’s as a species couldn’t abide dirt and yearned to clean the whole world. They had round white faces that held a monotone expression unless extreme emotions over took them. Their bodies made Sans think of a turtle but instead of a shell they had a huge rain barrel for a body. Their bodies were filled with what a substance that looked like water. A duck or other small aquatic bird often shared a symbiotic relationship with the friendly woshua’s and could be seen floating or sitting on the woshua’s back or shoulder. A short stiff tail that resembled a crank rotated continuously. Sans often had wondered the function of their tails but never found an appropriate time to ask them about it.

Sans put the bottle back into the locker and pulled out his uniform. He began to undress, hanging his coat on the hanger in his locker. He could see out of the corner of his eye his brother was beaming proudly at him for putting a little bit of effort into being neat. He sighed.

Other officers began to trickle in. A good mixture of human and monster. They were the night patrol. Some chatted about things they’d done in their time off. Others only grunted minimal greetings, these poor souls usually bore large mugs of coffee and blank expressions. Their patrol was made up of around 40 officers.

Papyrus and Sans made their way to the briefing room. The Sergeant would dole out the assignments and give out important information before the start of the shift. Chairs scrapped against the floor as everyone found a seat. The more talkative of the patrol men added to the din.

Sans endured the occasional slap on the shoulder and well wishes from his comrades. Some just pointed at him and laughed. A lot of these boy-os had seen his show and were just extending their appreciation. They knew him as a small time celebrity and work pal, nothing more. He took it in stride, giving them a casual grin or kind word.

Papyrus eyed the officers with some trepidation. No one ever seemed to seek him out to slap him on the shoulder or give him words of affirmation. He usually had a brave face on allowing his characteristic cackle to mingle in with the pre-meeting noise. But on this night he was abnormally quiet. Taking his seat and staring vacantly at the front of the room.

A few officers picked up on Papyrus’s lack luster attitude. One whispered to Sans, “Paps doing alright? He’s not getting sick is he?”

Sans shook his head, his brow wrinkling with worry. Before he could say anything more the door to the room banged open.

The Lieutenant walked in, the stern expression on their face. Everyone not already seated quickly remedied that. Their Lieutenant, McGruff, was a barrel chested red faced man. Every step he took felt like the rumbling of thunder, his green eyes flashed like lightning, and the shocking crop of hair on his head was a brilliant crimson. He turned his normally stormy expression upon the officers present.

In his brusque voice he called out the roll-call and assigned teams of officers to different patrols. “Patrols stationed along Waterfall Road keep your eyes peeled for suspicious smuggling activity near the docks. Undyne and her patrol should’ve netted most of them. But stay on the lookout for anything fishy, no pun intended of course.” He cast an apologetic look at Papyrus.

A strangled noise escaped Papyrus’s throat. Puns would be the death of him.

The rest of the announcements were not too shocking or out of the ordinary. There seemed to be a new mob trying to gain a foot hold in the city, but their activity seemed so infrequent and weak that McGruff only briefly mentioned it. Most of the activity took place near the run down part of town.

As they were leaving their briefing Sans looked up at Papyrus. The worried expression hadn’t left his brother’s face. Despite the onset of what seemed a quiet evening. “Eh Paps, mind if I grab a cuppa joe before we head out? McGruff’s voice was lulling me to sleep.”

That cuppa joe felt like ages ago. They were been a few hours into their shift when Papyrus had noticed the body.

They’d separated on their patrol, choosing to spread out and cover more ground. Well that was the intrinsic reasoning behind it. Usually what happened was Sans found a quiet corner to catch up on some sleep while Papyrus marched around both their beats.

With the odd mood Papyrus had been in however Sans had been on the alert. The coffee hit his system and he’d nervously meandered around checking for any suspicious activity. He found himself searching alleyways, frisking trashcans, and even peaking under stairways. He never trusted stairs, they were always up to something and down for anything.

The radio around his neck had started squawking. Sans put the large brick of a radio close to the side of his head. The light in his eyes vanished for a moment when he heard his brother’s voice, shaky and rushed, giving out his location and requesting assistance. Without a second thought and before his brother uttered another syllable Sans raised his left hand. A blue wisp of magic flared out from his finger tips and was gone.

Papyrus showed no surprise as his brother just appeared beside him. He was too focused on calling his location and the code for his situation into the radio. The tall skeleton’s shoulders were slumped, the rain soaking through his police uniform.

Sans looked around for the immediate threat. He couldn’t sense anyone nearby. There was only his brother standing at a T-intersection of road. He’d missed the distress code in teleporting here.

When Papyrus finished with the radio he turned, seeing Sans, and without acknowledging him went down some steps into a small alcove. His rain slicker was laying on the ground covering something, but in the darkness of the alcove Sans couldn’t make out what it was.

Papyrus knelt down beside his coat and bowed his head.

Sans walked over to the coat and knelt, he raised a corner to see the still pale face of a child. He dropped coat and sighed, looking across at his brother. “Bro?”

The alcove adjoined a large ancient building and featured an over look of the city. The city was split between two mountains with a river valley running between. The newer portion of the city was more populated and on the far side of the city from where they were. The distant lights from buildings sparkled like stars. Had it only been a few hours since he’d been over at the MTT Resort and Lounge?

“I saw a faded ribbon.” Papyrus’s voice was soft. As if he were afraid if he raised his voice he’d wake the dead child. “It was waving from the corner of the stairs as if beckoning me. I took a closer look and noticed a knife. I thought it was a real one but it’s only a toy. Then I saw…” Papyru’s voice hitched, “I saw the shoes.”

Silence fell over them.

“I thought, _‘Human, why would you sleep outside in weather like this? If you are in need of help, I the Great Papyrus, am happy to assist.’_ I didn’t want my feeling to be right, Sans.” The rain running down his face looked like tears, perhaps they were.

Sans didn’t want to look under the coat again, not until more officers were here. So they waited in the rain. Two skeletons standing guard over the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lengthy delay in posting this chapter, dearies. Please feel free to leave comments. I hope you all enjoy! More to come soon!


	4. Golly, you're new.

Their body was shaking, even though they were just gaining consciousness. Were they afraid?

Being alive seemed to surprise them but they couldn’t remember why. Rain hit against their closed eye lids, it was cold, and they didn’t want to wake up. Not ever.

They heaved a shoulder up and over, rolling themselves onto their stomach. There were flowers beneath them, which must have broken their fall.

Fall? Had they fallen?

The questions bobbed around in their mind like apples in a barrel. Each seemed important but hard to grasp. It wasn’t worth the effort knowing. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered.

Vague feelings from a life they couldn’t remember filled them. They were scared, they were weak, and they were oh so very tired. Everything was despondent and had lost it’s meaning

“Howdy!”

A shadow fell over them, something blocked out the rain. Looking up they saw a pale face surrounded by a bright canopy of yellow sunshine.

No, an umbrella. A bright yellow umbrella.

“I’m Flowey, Flowey head of the Flowers. You’re new to the Underground, aren’tcha?”

The rain fall was fading away into a drizzle.

“Golly, you must be so confused. Someone ought to teach you how things work around here!” The person turned, looking first up and then down the street. Finally Flowey’s dark eyes came back to focus on them, “I guess little old me will have to do.”

The mysterious Flowey knelt, his pale face getting larger; like the moon rising on a dark night. “See this heart?”

A pale hand held up a something that glowed a bright crimson red. It pulsated softly and hissed when a bit of rain fell upon it.

“This is your SOUL, the very culmination of your being!”

Their eyes widened with horror. Their body felt weightless as if they didn’t have a body at all, but they felt the rain. With each hiss of the glowing red heart they felt the rain deep within them. They felt like they were going to retch seeing their soul cradled in the strange person’s hand. But their body wasn’t responding to them anymore. It was responding to the hand holding on to their soul, that cold ghastly hand.

 “Your SOUL can start off weak, but you can grow it strong if you gain a lot of LV.” The hand began to toss the soul up and down as if it were a ball. “What’s LV stand for? Why, Love, of course! You want some LOVE, don’t you?”

They felt sick. Up and down. Up and down. Their soul cried out feebly for help.

But no one came.

Flowey seemed for the first time to take notice of the expression of horror on their face. Their smile split their face, sharp teeth peeking out from behind pasty lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll share some with you. Down here love is shared through . . .” The umbrella was cradled as they reached into the pocket of their overcoat. “Little white . . . friendliness pellets.” The hand procured a fist full of pills. They were small, round, and white.

Their soul seemed to thrash, trying to return to its original body.  The hand holding the pellets placed a few into their mouth and they swallowed.

Silence fell between them. Their soul seemed to dim as a great heaviness passed over them. It was as if they were being wrapped in warm cotton. Their breathing slowed and their eye lids dropped. Why had they been afraid? There was nothing to fear from this pale angel. They were taking away all their anxiety with friendliness and love. They were filled with love. For the first time, in a long time, they felt at peace.

“Are you ready?”

Hands grabbed onto them pulling them in for an embrace. Flowey’s breath was warm against their ear, “In this world, it’s kill or _be_ killed. Never forget that.”

Darkness enveloped them once more as they felt themselves being lifted up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is intentionally short. More to come soon! Leave comments and critiques bellow if you wish! Have a lovely day.


	5. Up all night and day

The sirens soft wailing in the distance warned them that things were about to get lively. Sans had moved to sit on the alcove steps, watching his brother and doing everything to ignore the covered body.

The sirens wail grew louder, belting out the final note of its tragic song before fading out. Car doors were opening and closing on the street above. The alcove walls were cast in a red and blue hue as police lights flashed.

Papyrus stood first. He wiped at his eyes then gave up. He was completely soaked like Sans had been earlier. He heaved a sigh, his shoulder shrugging up and down, going through the motions. Then he composed himself and made his way up to address the other officers.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Spot lights were set up and the investigation began. Normally Papyrus would be excited, he loved solving puzzles. But they’d never taken part in a murder investigation. Murder was a rarity to New Home. But sadly it was on the rise as the economy fell.

Papyrus’s coat was removed and Sans got his first clear look at the small child they’d been safe keeping. Their body was emaciated, their soaked clothes clung to their skin. They resembled a tiny skeleton child more than a human.

They had just been a baby bones.

 It was no wonder Papyrus was so shaken.

 Small mismatched shoes covered their feet, one was a bright red rain boot the other a dirty sneaker. Sans saw along the pale arms of their skin bruises or track marks, he was keeping his distance so he couldn’t tell which they were. The wet disheveled mop of hair was plastered to the kid’s skull. Their dull eyes seemed to stare into Sans’, as if pleading for him to save them.

Flash bulbs lit up the area, causing the shadows of the body to reach out toward Sans. Snatching at him like the claws of a wild animal. He staggered, bumping into his brother’s back.

Papyrus had been speaking with the investigators describing the scene as he’d found it. They scribbled down his words furiously and asked him questions. Commending him on trying to preserve the crime scene from the elements. At Sans touch he turned to look quizzically at his brother.

“Sorry Bro- I uh . . . tripped?”

Papyrus placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling his brother close and effectively turning him away from the body. He then returned to finish answering any questions the investigators had.

Papyrus was composed, standing tall. His brother spoke with strident tones that simply rang with authority and calm. Sans couldn’t tell if it was forced or if his brother simply had accepted the situation in a way Sans couldn’t. He wished he had an ounce of the confidence that radiated from Papyrus.

The officers collecting evidence were just about finished when the coroner’s van arrived. Two strong looking men were descending the stairs into the alcove with a stretcher. They stood patiently waiting to take the body.

_‘Just one of them could pick up the body. It’s so small.’_ Sans thought sadly.

A squeeze on his shoulder caused him to look up at his brother, “Sans, we’re to report back to the station for a brief respite. I need a change of clothes and you . . . look like you could use some Heinz. Good thing you found that bottle in your locker earlier, Nyheh heh eh?”

The ride to the station had been uneventful. Papyrus chatted amiably with the two officers while Sans slouched into the seat. They were eager to get to work on this case. Excited even to have the opportunity to work on a murder investigation. Papyrus informed everyone that since he and Sans were the first on the scene the investigators were going to rely heavily on them during this case.

There came a point in the drive back where Papyrus stopped talking. His teeth had begun to chatter together. As skeletons they didn’t produce much body heat. They were still living beings though and needed to stay somewhat warm.

Sans took his heavy coat off and draped it over his brother’s torso. “Can’t have you getting sick, bro.”

Papyrus’s leaned against Sans and smiled, “This investigation is going to need us, Ny-heh heh!”

Sans wondered how his brother’s mood had improved. It was like their moods were being exchanged, the sullener Sans felt the brighter his brother appeared. He didn’t say anything though; it was already nearing the end of their shift. But if what Papyrus had said was true they were going to be pulling a double today. He may need something stronger than ketchup to keep him awake.

Were there always this many stairs outside the station? The walk back to the locker room seemed to take twice as long as it had earlier that evening. It was a relief to sit down on the locker room bench, away from everyone, and just think.

A bright yellow bottle was thrust into his face. Sans looked sullenly up to see his brother dressed in another uniform. His spare uniform, he could tell because there was a button missing. Sans never did get around to sewing it back on for his brother.

“Mustard?” He asked eyeing the bottle inches from his nasal bone.

“Yes. We’ve . . . had quite a shift.” Papyrus sat with a sigh next to his brother. “Normally I would condone your consumption of condiments. But . . .this is going to be the start of a long horrible nightmare.”

Wordlessly Sans took the mustard, taking a swig. He’d never seen his brother speak so solemnly before and it frightened him just as much as the shadows had. “Feeling in your bones?”

“Deep in my bones.”

_Knock, Knock, Knock._

This was the umpteenth door Sans had knocked on. His knuckles were white with all the knocking, they were always white but that was besides the point. He and his brother had been sent back out to canvas the neighborhood near the crime scene to find any witnesses.

Most of the buildings near the scene were abandoned. There were some apartment buildings nearby however. They were run down slum houses and most of them were still empty. Monsters with any sense had moved closer to the river near the Snowden suburbs or across the river near the C.O.R.E, Center of Research and Energy. Jobs were plentiful there.

Papyrus and Sans had little luck with their canvas. The few apartments that were full had whimsuns too shy to answer the door or Froggits too angry to calm down enough to listen to Sans and Papyrus’ queries.

Their hopes were up when they thought they had a lead, a Loox they questioned claimed to have seen the whole thing. His large eye blinked nervously as he allowed the brother’s to step into his apartment and sit on a threadbare couch.

Further questioning revealed he’d thought the brother’s had come to harass him. He was behind on his rent and knew someone was going to call soon to collect.

“We’re dressed like officers! What idiotic thug would dare . . .” Sans was cut off from his outburst by Papyrus’ firm hand on his shoulder.

Papyrus seemed to sense the strain in Sans. Sans usually was the one leading people around in circles, he didn’t like being lied to. Before he could snap further at the harried Loox Papyrus stood.

In the moment of silence that followed the Loox sniffled, “Don’t pick on me. Times are hard a-and they’ve been more insistent we pay on time.”

 “Well we’re sorry we disturbed you. If you have any trouble or do remember seeing anything don’t hesitate to call N.H.P.D. We both hope you have an excellent evening. Thank you for your time. Come brother, it’s time we went back to the station and reported in.”

As soon as they were out of the apartment building they turned the corner to walk back toward the crime scene. The rain had only let up a little, but dark clouds still clung low over the city obstructing the sun from shining through. It was a dreary day.

“Of all the irritating, short sighted…” Sans fumed scuffing his shoes against the ground.

They soon neared the crime scene. Compared to the bustle of last night the entrance to alleyway looked rather peaceful. A few passersby glanced curiously over the police barriers, at the approach of the two police-skeletons however the gawkers quickly walked away.

Against the barrier someone had left a bouquet of yellow flowers. Besides the flowers were small candles that fizzled in the rain but stayed lit. Perhaps fire magic was keeping them alight?

Sans was staring down the darkness of the alley remembering the emaciated body they’d found there. God- it’d just been a kid. What set of circumstances led to that kid being there? What had happened to the poor baby bones?

“Sans is that a quiche?” Papyrus was pointing to a small plate with a slice of something on it.

Welcoming the distraction, Sans knelt smelling a sweet mixture of cinnamon and something else he couldn’t quite place. “Nah bro, that’s a pie slice. Wonder why it’s been abandoned out here?”  

“Whatever the reason we should make a note of it.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Ah my dear brother. Perhaps the murder has returned to the scene of the crime! The investigators should be told.”

“I see no harm in tellin’ ‘em. But, bro, what would the killer gain from leaving some flowers, candles, and a pie slice?”

Papyrus’s eye sockets narrowed, “That I do not know brother.” He then sighed, “At least our day can’t get much worse.” Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Uh-oh. That sounds like an invitation.” Sans groused.

He then turned, spying a Vegetoid bobbing merrily down the opposite sidewalk, and shouted, “Oy mate, what’s the one thing you never say on a bad day?”

The Vegetoid halted its progression, bobbling in place, “Pardon? Eat your greens?”

“Sans-“

“No, besides that mate!”

“It can’t get much worse?”

A lightning bolt streaked across the sky like an angel of death smiting righteous justice. The bolt temporarily blinding them all. It was like great rent had been torn through the sky. The air felt dry despite the current stormy weather. If Sans’ had hair it’d be standing straight on end.

Sans heard the Vegetoid shriek in terror and he was fairly certain he’d given out a startled yell. He began to run in the direction of the Vegetoid before his eyes cleared, his left hand flaring with blue fire. If the poor bloke had been struck by the bolt of lightning he’d never forgive himself. It would be his ironic luck that the dreaded phrase, _“It can’t get much worse,”_ would be uttered and someone would die seconds later from it.

He felt someone grab his coat collar and heard the squealing of breaks followed by the honking of a car horn and then a wall of water hit him. The after image of the lightning bolt was still emblazoned across his vision and now he had water in his eye sockets so he couldn’t see what was going on. Were they under attack?

Papyrus voice finally broke through the commotion, “Brother! How many times must I tell you to not run into the street?! You could’ve been killed or worse!”

Sans shook his head hoping to clear his sight. “Whew, thanks bro. Saw my whole life _flash_ before my eyes,” He placed a hand to his chest.

“Gnnnnrrrg. Bad pun aside- Mr. Vegetoid are you in need of assistance?”

Sans eyesight was coming back enough to see the monster across the way was still standing. His leafy hair shook and swayed. He seemed shaken but alright.

“I- oh my. Oh my . . . I am ok? Uh- I’m going to leave now.”

“Have a wonderful day!” Papyrus waved. “Come brother, let’s see if we can catch the trolley back to the station.”

Sans nodded the manic grin on his face relaxing, “Yeah it’s about time we _leaf_. We’re _fresh_ outta options and other areas to farm for witnesses. Might as well _beet_ it.”

Papyrus placed his hands over his temporal bones in a vain attempt to block out his brother’s horrible puns. “AURGH! SANS!!” His feet stomped against the ground as he dashed off for the trolley stop.

**Author's Note:**

> More to come; feel free to leave comments and critiques! Have a lovely day, darlings!


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